Thin Line (30 page)

He picked up on the third ring. "Don't bother, Jack. Nothing you can say will stop this. And, honestly, I'm looking forward to hearing your reasoning
behind keeping that traitor alive, but that's a talk for another day. And when we have it, you'll be bolted to the floor while trying to dodge my fists."

"Your little trick didn't work." It was all I needed to say.

"What're you talking about?"

"I've got the entire conversation recorded."

Frank laughed. "And what are you going to do with that, Jack? Call up CNN?"

"Yeah, and every other network. A single email will deliver the file to all of them, plus reporters at the
Times
, the
Post
, the
Wall Street Journal
. And then I'll go on camera and detail every op you and I ran together."

Frank started to answer, paused, said, "You'll screw yourself."

"They gotta find me first."

"You're not serious."

I said nothing.

Neither did Frank. For a few moments, at least. "What do you want?"

"I want you to call up whoever ordered this hit. You're gonna drive out and pick them up. Then we're all gonna meet and have a little talk." I paused, then
added, "And you better have Brett with you, and he better be alive."

"He's alive, but this isn't going to happen."

"You know as well as I do that once this gets out there, an investigation will follow. It might not be public. Doesn't have to be, though. It's all going
to fall back on whoever ordered this. You know how this works. Every witch hunt needs a witch."

"All right." Frank paused for a long beat. "I'll call him. Where do you plan on meeting?"

"How about the diner?"

"See you there in an hour."

Bear and I remained in the car, focused on the alley that ran between SIS and the building to its right. Only way in. Only way out. Finally, headlights
swept across the concrete and asphalt. The wide cone of illumination narrowed. The vehicle came into sight, pulled past the curb, and eased into the
street, turning away from us.

I made out two heads at different heights. Frank in front, Brett in back. Presumably. Could have been another agent. We'd find out soon enough.

I eased away from the curb with my lights off. Couldn't stay that way for long, so after twenty seconds, I switched them on. Frank was about three hundred
yards ahead of us. Too far. I pushed the speedometer to fifty and closed the gap down to about a hundred feet. After we left the city I could increase the
distance again, and allow a car or two to get in front of us.

There were no surprises in the route Frank took. He left the city by way of I-395 and then exited onto I-66. From there he drove to Highway 7.

"He's going to the diner," Bear said. "Nowhere else."

"Not unless the order was issued by Langley."

"You think CIA's involved?"

"Not sure, Bear. Maybe Brett stepped on some toes along the way. Hell, look at how many people you and I have pissed off. The process these things go
through, all the committees, the sign-offs. Man, for all we know, someone intended a bullet for each of us long ago, it just never got approved."

"Tell me another bedtime story, Jack. That one made me feel nice and fuzzy inside."

Bear laughed, and so did I. Perhaps it was the tension rising to a boil. Maybe relief that he hadn't been killed. They probably thought the blackjack had
done him in. Should have used a bullet. Five, for that matter. Only thing that saved the big man was the location. Too close to the listening public to put
him away. And his size made it a pain to toss him into the back of a car so they could attempt to finish the job later.

Frank's brake lights blossomed like two exploding cherries. The vehicle in front of us decelerated quickly and turned right into a residential area. I cut
our headlights after Frank's car slipped out of view, and then hit the brakes.

"Quick," I said. "Look at the GPS and tell me if that neighborhood has a back entrance."

Bear pulled the device out of the console and activated the screen. I turned right on the same street Frank had. Taillights shone like pin pricks. Still in
view, though, and on the same road.

"Doesn't look like any other way out," Bear said. "Just some side streets that connect, like a rib cage. Only dead end is the road we are on."

I kept the car in the middle of the road, avoiding the pools of orange light cast from the street lamps. The further we went, the more homes I noticed that
looked freshly built. The lots were unlandscaped. Nothing but dirt and maybe a malnourished tree or two. They'd put hedges and bushes around the houses,
but little else. Then we came to a wooden skeleton that rose from a tumultuous grave of rock and sand and dirt. There were six of these, three on each
side.

Then nothing but tall grass on either side of the road.

Frank's taillights lit up. Exploding cherries again. The car abruptly turned to the left, its headlights doused. The interior flashed for a moment, the
result of the dome light. Didn't last.

"He knows we're here," Bear said.

I brought the car to a stop. "Wonder when he spotted us?"

"Keep going, man."

I eased off the brake. The car rolled forward. Bear lowered his window. A crosswind blew cold smoke-flavored air through the grasses. Sounded like
almost-muted cicadas.

Frank's door glinted as it swung open. His silhouette rose. It was hard to determine his subsequent movements, but I was able to tell that he opened the
rear door, at which someone fell out. Frank stepped back, turned sideways, extended his arm.

"Hang on, Bear."

As my left hand switched on the headlights and turned on the high-beams, my right foot slammed the gas pedal down. We covered two hundred yards in a matter
of seconds. The vehicle fishtailed most of it. I kept the high-beams on, moved my foot to the brake, and slowed down rapidly. I didn't have to worry about
friction between the tires and pavement. We were on dirt now. Sliding was the concern.

The only movement Frank made as the car barreled toward him was to force Brett to get off the ground. The man stumbled forward and had to use Frank's sedan
to pull himself up.

We came to a stop. Bear and I stepped out, using the doors as shields.

"Cut the lights, Jack," Frank said. He kept his pistol aimed at Brett.

"Survey," I said to Bear across the roof, and then I called out, "Ditch your gun and I'll get rid of the lights."

"You don't get it, man." Shaking his head, Frank laughed. Then he lowered his arm, an inch, maybe two. A bright flash of light exploded, accompanied by the
sound of a quarter hitting a tin trash can. Brett let out a stifled yell and collapsed. One hand remained attached to the fender. A small pool of blood
formed next to his left knee.

A knee for a knee, I thought. Hopefully Frank would stop there.

"Doesn't have to be like this, Frank," Bear said.

"Shut up, you overgrown lumberjack." Frank lowered his weapon further. The trajectory would carry the bullet into Brett's head. "Jack, cut the damn lights,
or I'll do him right here, man."

I knew Frank well enough to know it wasn't a bluff, so I leaned into the car and killed the headlights. For a moment I saw nothing but blackness. Slowly,
my eyes adjusted. Brett hadn't moved. Neither had Frank. Dogs barked in the background, their howls stretching for miles like a line of falling dominos.

"What are we doing here, Frank?" I stepped out from behind the cover of the door - not that it would have done much more than take some velocity off the
bullet.

"Think you're so smart, Jack. C'mon, man, I have the entire street wired at SIS. I saw you two pull up to the curb. Was watching you the entire time we
talked."

"Why not take me, then? Why come all the way out here?"

"Because I need to know if what you claim to have is the real deal before I decide what to do with you."

Bear spoke loud enough for me to hear, and no one else. "Someone's out there. Fifty yards to the left."

I moved forward cautiously, and aware of the blackness to my left. "Frank, get in the car and drive off. Leave Brett there. Promise to leave him alone, and
this all ends. No need for anyone to die. No need for careers to be ruined."

Frank turned his pistol on me. I knew Bear had him covered now, which left the field wide open.

"Close enough, Jack."

In my left hand was one of the CDs. I lifted it into the air. "It's all on here."

"Toss it over."

"Let Brett go."

Frank lowered his pistol, and said to Brett, "Walk about ten yards, then stop."

I flung the CD toward Frank as though the disc were a frisbee. It deflected off his hand and bounced on the ground a couple times. The man made no advance
toward it.

"Jack!" Bear yelled as a bright flash of light blinded me.

DIVING TOWARD THE ground, I pulled my pistol and fired a round in the direction of the light. Momentum carried my body in a roll to the left. The beam
dissipated, but in front of me, all I could see was a bright red artifact, burned into my retina. A bullet crashed into the ground next to me. Shots were
fired from behind. They made more sound when they hit the side of Frank's car than when they were fired.

I scrambled to my knees, my feet, ran to the left and into the knee-high grass. Another shot meant for me burrowed into the dirt. Bear continued his
assault, being careful not to hit Frank or Brett. He fired to provide me cover.

"Cease fire," I called out.

Frank dove into his car. Bear fired a couple more shots. Brett, presumably realizing this was his opportunity, staggered with a pronounced limp, and
managed to reach the field on the opposite side of the road.

With the red glare down to the size of a small halo, I scanned the field and caught a glimpse of someone running away. Obviously an SIS agent that Frank
had planted out in the undeveloped land. He'd known we were outside SIS, and he'd planned on leading us here, where he had someone waiting.

Bear took position behind the car. He stopped firing and concentrated on covering me and Brett.

Frank started his car, then scrambled out of it. He stayed low and collected the CD off the street. Guess the evidence was important to him, after all. The
engine revved, and then the vehicle lurched forward. Tires spun in the dirt as Frank pulled away.

I knelt in the grass as he passed. His pistol, aimed at me, glinted in the traces of light that found us.

But he didn't shoot.

Instead, he gunned the engine and fled.

I rose up and sprinted across the street. Bear was already in position at Brett's side. After surveying the blackened expanse beyond the development for
signs of any other SIS agents, we lifted Brett and carried him to the car. He gritted his teeth and groaned as we placed him in the backseat.

By the time I had the car started, Frank had driven out of sight. Didn't matter. I knew he'd go back to the SIS building. Or Langley if someone there was
involved in this mess. Either way, not places we could get into. And we couldn't worry about that. Brett needed medical attention. He could be in danger of
losing his leg, depending on how much damage the bullet did.

I called Brandon. He located a hospital in McLean, Virginia, fifteen minutes from our position. The only problem was a gunshot wound would require the
hospital to bring in the police. We couldn't just drop Brett off. The moment the call hit the scanner, Frank would have a team en route to collect.

Brett said, "Take me to Langley."

Bear said, "You CIA after all?"

Brett shook his head. "Can't get into that."

I said, "And we can't pull up to the gates of the CIA."

"Give me your phone then." Brett sat up and pulled himself forward. The pain spread further across his face with every inch he moved. He took my phone and
placed a call. The conversation that followed was brief and to the point.

We drove to the hospital in McLean. There, we met the man Brett had called off to the side of the emergency room. He had on jeans and a heavy coat. His
hair was neat and short and didn't move in the wind. His hairless cheeks were red. He didn't bother to introduce himself before opening the back door and
helping Brett out. He didn't have to.

Joe Dunne glared at me. My mind, already racing because of what had transpired earlier, tried to piece the puzzle together. What connection did Brett have
to Dunne that he would call the FBI agent in a situation like this?

"I'll be in touch, Jack," Brett said. "Either directly, or through Reese. Put an end to this."

With that, Brett and Dunne headed toward the ER entrance. The wide glass doors spread apart, and the men disappeared into a flurry of action.

Bear leaned back, took a deep breath, turned toward me. "What the hell?"

"I'm trying to wrap my head around it, Bear. I really am. Maybe Brett had worked with him a time or two. He didn't live around here, so I'm thinking it
might be the only number he knew."

Bear nodded. "Sounds plausible to me." He paused, scratched at his beard. "But something ain't right."

"Brett was comfortable calling him. Dunne has the creds to keep the police at bay." I made a three-point turn in front of the ER and started toward the
exit. "We have to head up north. Get those files from Brandon."

"Not comfortable going home?"

"Frank knows where I live. Probably has two guys sitting in my living room, waiting for us to walk through the door."

"You think we'll figure out who it is?"

"Yeah. Do I think he'll admit to it? No."

"We'll probably never know the story behind this."

My gut told me Bear was right. At this point all I wanted was confirmation that the job was scrubbed. The command revoked. Our names erased from the case
file before they burned it.

Ten minutes later, I called McSweeney and recapped the events, up to the point of us leaving Brett at the hospital with Dunne.

"Thanks for seeing this through, Jack."

"No problem. And he called the guy who met us at the ER. Seemed comfortable with him." I left out the fact that the guy was FBI and investigating her case.